For You I Was A Flame
by believeinthegods
Summary: The road to Sectionals was long. The road to recovery is longer still. Finn/Rachel. Post-Sectionals. LJ/64damnprompts challenge.


**F o r Y o u I W a s A F l a m e **

**Summary: **_The road to Sectionals was long. The road to recovery is longer still.'_

**Pairing: **_Finn/Rachel_

**Era: **_Post Sectionals_

**Rating: **_T (for bad language)_

**Song choice: **_Glitter in the Air by P!nk_

**_~for the 64damnprompts challenge on lj~_**

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_**- 2 am**_

She's sat at the end of her bed, the stress and elation of victory day pulling shut her fluttering eye-lids, and she has his number dialled. Her finger hovers over the green 'call' button.

– _**Metaphor**_

She once declared that metaphors are important. But when she sees a raging storm cloud blow in on Monday morning and open the locker a few doors down from hers, she wishes for once reality would put the damn things back their place.

– _**Sky**_

On the way back from Sectionals, he glances out of the sunroof to the darkness outside. The stars smile down at him. He thinks of Rachel.

– _**Lost scene**_

He turns off the TV when he realises he's been thinking about Rachel Berry's legwarmers instead of watching the screen, and that he actually has no clue what Jack Shephard has been doing for the last forty-one minutes.

– _**Degree**_

They want to know how Finn's doing, if he's okay, if he's over it yet. The interrogation lasts all rehearsal. She keeps saying it, over and over: _I don't know. I just don't know_.

– _**Seize the Day**_

His mom has it written on a floral fridge magnet. _Carpe diem. _All the days seem to blur into one. How on earth is he supposed to seize one when they all seem to bypass him completely? And then, one day, Rachel Berry appears at his door with her famous sugar-cookies. And then he seizes as many of those sugary treats as he possibly can.

– _**Opposite**_

_You're sane. She's not. You're low-maintenance. She's not. You're a football fan, a rock music fan, a C grade student. She's not. You're opposites. _He stops himself. _No, _he thinks. _We're not_.

– _**Passions run**_

He doesn't even know what Mercedes and Rachel are fighting so obsessively about, but Mercedes says something and Rachel's face contorts in hurt. He stands up, telling Mercedes to back the hell off. She blinks once, and turns away.

– _**Connection**_

Fucking internet. God damn it to hell. He's been talking to her over IM for nearly two hours, and now the freaking connection goes. Seconds later, the phone rings. He lies back on his bed with a smile at the sound of her voice.

– _**Lull and Storm**_

Some days she listens with kind, quiet sympathy to him as he talks about his feelings. Some days he's filled with anger and resentment, and she's yelling at him to calm down, to get some perspective. He loves her for both. (Did he say love? He meant like. Of course he meant like).

– _**Animal**_

She sees a rabbit at the side of the road. She sees Puck's car skid over the poor animal's helpless form. She sees him drive away, happy-go-lucky. What did she _see _in him?

– _**Children**_

The saddest thing? He thinks he would've made a really good dad. Sure, he'd probably forget the important stuff – feeding and diapers and stuff. But he'd have loved that kid like no dad had ever loved before.

– _**We all float on**_

It's kind of surreal when he slips into Glee rehearsal, first rehearsal back after winning, and everyone's pretending like nothing's happened; that Puck didn't sleep with his girlfriend and get her pregnant; that Quinn didn't lie to him; that Rachel never told him the truth. Pretending like it's just another Monday.

– _**Chess**_

He's flicking through an old Thunderclap, torturing himself by looking at her old cheerleading photos, and he frowns at page 61. Since when was Rachel Berry a member of the Chess Club?

– _**Duty**_

She'd be there, sat in his living room next to him as he wipes his hands on his jeans for the millionth time as he explains to his mom about Puck and Quinn and the baby, even if it wasn't the right thing to do. Even if it wasn't what she was _supposed_ to do, as his friend. Her duty.

– _**Rip**_

The first time he cries in all this? He tears his favourite football jersey on the banister at the staircase, and he's suddenly crying like a baby, leaning against the wall like a toddler. It feels good to cry.

– _**Missing Time**_

It's Rachel's idea, and at first he thinks it's stupid. But in the end, it makes sense. One hour a day, to think about what was, and that's it. 'Missing Time', she calls it. Time to miss the things that have passed.

– _**Crest**_

He thinks he's getting there. It might take a few more days, weeks – sometimes months, he thinks dejectedly – but he's getting there. It's like a mountain he's climbing. The crest's in sight.

– _**Itch**_

Her feelings for him are like a spot she can't scratch. She knows she shouldn't. He's vulnerable right now. He's hurting. She suppresses the urge with every last bit of willpower she's got. But still, the spot aches on.

– _**Explode**_

Puck says the wrong thing and he snaps. His fist is inches from his best friend's face, breathing heavy. He's got him up against the lockers. It's almost too easy. "Finn," she says. He blinks. He pulls away.

– _**Rise**_

Waking up the day after Sectionals. _Five missed calls. _Quinn. _Seventeen new messages_. Kurt, Mercedes, Puck, Brittany (who he guesses sent it to a wrong number, because it says something about elephants). _One pale pink envelope with a gold star sealing the flap. _Rachel Berry. He turns off his cell, yawning, and sticks the gold star to his bedpost.

– _**Crumble**_

Because sometimes, when he thinks he's got it all under control, something'll come along, and he'll be in bits all over again.

– _**Range**_

She nearly doesn't forgive him when she's trying for a high B, and he looks at her and she fumbles.

– _**Fight/Flight**_

He contemplates quitting Glee. It'd be the easier thing to do, after all. But sometimes the easy thing to do isn't the right one.

– _**Acid**_

Because when you're trying to concentrate on learning a new run off Mr Schue and Rachel Berry's knee high socks are right in front of you, it's kind of a toxic combination.

– _**Color**_

She categorizes her clothing in the order of the spectrum. "Only I don't own anything in indigo," she says, looking troubled. He buys her an argyle indigo sweater, and slips it in the wardrobe when she's not looking.

– _**Give**_

He takes the mike and he sings – like he's never even _sung _before. He's throwing his all into the song, giving it every last bit of whatever he's got left. And it feels fucking _ah-may-zing._

– _**Needle**_

He screams even louder than she does when she's sewing gold stars onto a pillow case for her little cousin's birthday and the needle goes straight into her thigh. She whips it out, quick as lightning, and raises her eyebrows at him. He blushes.

– _**Locks**_

"So what do you think? A bob?" She holds her hair up at her ears, demonstrating the style. He frowns, taking his own fingertips and carefully bringing the hair back down to rest at her shoulders. _Huh. Wonder if that Jacob kid has any locks of that stuff lying around. _

– _**Slope**_

He's sat with Rachel Berry in the emergency room, filling out her details on insurance forms because her wrist's too busted to move. Teaching her to skateboard was good idea until she'd suggested the half pipe.

– _**Correspondence**_

She knows it's stupid. But she writes a letter to her mom every night before bed– just in case, y'know, she ever bumps into her and she can go, "Here! These are the adventures of that thing you carried in your uterus for nine months!" She tells her about Glee. About Sectionals. About Finn. All the stuff that matters.

– _**Linger**_

His feelings for Quinn – well, it's not like they're going to vanish overnight. But the fact that Rachel gets that – that she's _cool _with that? He thinks that's pretty awesome.

– _**Charm**_

And even when he sits at the lunch table, trying to work out how much he owes her for the muffin by counting on his fingers, she can't bring herself to laugh at him. His inability to subtract is endearing, in a way.

– _**Roads**_

He turns up at her house on a Sunday, bright and early, and the first thing she hears when she opens the door is: "Hey. Let's take a trip."

– _**Hunger**_

"You wanna get something to eat?" She's just had a four course meal with her dads, followed by a cookie, followed by a banana, followed by some chips. She looks up at him. "Sure!"

– _**Reciprocity **_

"I just wanted to say... Thanks for helping me out, these last few weeks. And if you ever need anything..." She smiles. "I know. The advantages of reciprocity." He blinks. "Um... yeah."

– _**Kind**_

It's _heaven_. It's rainbow coloured, with little bows on the sleeves and gold stars littered across the bodice, with a quirky neckline and short hem. _Limited edition. One of a kind. _She buys the piece of clothing that seems to define her better than anything she's ever worn.

– _**Fruity**_

She finds the biggest cup in her kitchen, and she fills it with every flavour imaginable – strawberry, raspberry, blueberry, blackberry, kiwi, lime, passion fruit, paw-paw, star-fruit (she likes that one the best). And when Karofsky gasps as the Rachel Berry deluxe slushie drips down into his underpants, justice is served.

– _**Half-Life**_

_Alpha radiation – helium nucleus. Beta radiation – electron? Neutron? Proton? _He has no idea. "Um, Rach... You're smart, right?"

– _**Comedy of Errors**_

She might have been talking about Shakespeare. Or maybe even Celine Dion. He wasn't _too _sure. He just liked the way her lips moved when she talked.

– _**Tragedy**_

She doesn't cry when he tells her about his dad until she gets home. She feels so greedy. She's got two. How many does _he_ have?

– _**Hope is the thing with feathers**_

"Rachel?" "Hmm." "You...like, have a bird on your head." She rolls her eyes. "It's a feathered beret." _Of course it is, you moron_, he mentally berates himself._ How did you not recognize a feathered beret? _He cracks up.

– _**Empire**_

"And don't worry, Finn. If ever you're in need of employment, the Rachel Berry merchandise distributors will always be hiring as they'll have to cope with the demand for products of my fans as my fame grows exponentially."

– _**Turpentine kisses and mistaken blows**_

She's painting her room (because what Kurt said secretly got to her. Not that she'd ever let on). He turns too fast and knocks into her, covering her with fast-drying Raspberry Belini ("I swear I went to middle school with a girl called that."). And then he kisses her. She can't quite remember how one led to the other, but she's not complaining.

– _**Rings**_

It's his Christening ring, the one that was supposed to go to the baby. He presses it back into the fraying velvet of his mom's jewellery box, and he's not going to lie. It hurts.

– _**Dust**_

The picture's ancient – she's at kindergarten, at some big regional school's sports day. She's at the front, of course, grinning her widest, Berry-est smile. But at the back stands someone she's not spotted before. He's way taller than his classmates, with deep brown eyes and a kind of lopsided smile. Twelve years later, Rachel Berry blushes.

– _**Every You, Every Me**_

She'd rather listen to Idina Menzel or some Kristen Chenoweth, to be honest, but she endures the song because Finn's karaoke to the chorus is the funniest thing she's seen in weeks.

– _**Project**_

She buys herself a bumper notebook and coats it in gold stickers. And then she turns the page, and in her favourite pink strawberry gel pen, writes in big letters: OPERATION: FIX FINN HUDSON.

– _**Adore**_

"No, no," she says, taking the textbook from him. "_Te quiero _is for close friends or relatives – not someone you necessarily have a close relationship with. _Te amo _is for the person who you share a unique connection with – who you don't think of like anyone else. Does that make sense?" He nods. _Te amo. _

– _**Murmur**_

She approaches him warily, her hands on the strap of her satchel. She cautiously comes to a stop beside him. "Hi, Finn," she murmurs. He nods.

– _**Above**_

He's walking out – past Ms Pillsbury, past Jacob, past the crowds. The band plays with gusto, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears and pressing to his blushing cheeks. He looks up, and She's stood above him, Her arms raised as She sings. Her eyes find his, and in one moment he seems to understand Rachel Berry's place in the world.

– _**Below **_

"_I'll march my band!"_ And out they come, and the applause keeps on coming, and the smile on his face on the stairwell below her finds her and gladdens her heart.

– _**Incalculable**_

Her rosettes, her trophies, her medals, her certificates. They're piled up on one wall of the Berry's living room. He's a little speechless. There's just so _many_. She catches him looking. "Oh, these are the most recent. The rest are in the attic." He blinks.

– _**Wire**_

She tight-rope-walks across his washing line. He nearly has a heart-attack.

– _**Landslide**_

"Oh, there's nothing like winning on a unanimous vote," she declares. She's had a little celebratory drink, and then she giggles, and the laughter doesn't stop as she breaks into hysterics. He doesn't even know what's so funny, but before he catches himself he's laughing too.

– _**The beginning is the end is the beginning**_

If she hadn't liked Finn to start with, maybe Quinn would never have sought solace in Puck. If Quinn had never sought solace in Puck, maybe there would never have been a Baby Drizzle. And if there would never have been a Baby Drizzle, maybe there would be no Finn Hudson coming round to her house with ice cream and a copy of _Funny Girl _he picked up from Blockbuster. Consequences sure are funny things.

– _**Door**_

She's stood on the auditorium stage after school, and she's singing the female half of her favourite duet. She's left the door open. Y'know... just in case.

– _**Enemy gate**_

He's tired of not knowing who can he freaking _trust_, y'know?

– _**Stone**_

"And hold it – _hold it, _Kurt, hold the pose –" She stands as still as stone. "Guys, you're not holding it, we need a big photo finish – _hold your pose!" _She waits. "Excellent, Rachel!" She smiles.

– _**Bright**_

She wakes up, squinting as the sunlight bursts into her room. So she wears sunglasses to school that day, and he doesn't get why he gets this weird nostalgic look on his face when he sees her in them.

– _**Stories**_

He checks out Jacob's blog one day after Rachel's been complaining about it, and he's horrified. The next day, he finds Jacob at school and threatens to jam his head in the lockers if he ever spreads rumours about him being a hermaphrodite and Rachel being a hooker ever again.

– _**Chime**_

The first time he cooks her dinner, he burns the pasta and forgets to defrost the bread. She delves out a microwave meal, trying not to laugh, and when the machine makes a cheery 'ping', his face lights up.

– _**Laugh**_

Her inability to laugh at herself is something Rachel Berry has always struggled with. But she's learning. Well. She's trying, anyway.

– _**Hold**_

He's protesting as she drags him by the hand into the bowling alley, though he has no idea why, and when she finally earns her strike, this time she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, just like before. Only this time? This time, he holds on.

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_A review would make a lonely, pathetic writer's day..._


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